


Abstract Madness

by writingramblr



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Deus Ex Machina, F/M, Implied Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mental Breakdown, Minor Violence, Multiple Personalities, POV Multiple, Poisoning, Psychological Torture, Speculation, pre-suicide squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 03:43:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6888559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harleen Quinzel was...</p><p> </p><p>Harley Quinn is...</p><p> </p><p>But Harleen has not left, merely been pushed aside.</p><p>[just nonsense to fill the void til August is here.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abstract Madness

**Author's Note:**

> this is haphazard nonsense to represent Harleen's breakdown.
> 
> also i like writing Harley with ANYone but Joker.
> 
> so she's scared of him, but also fond of him.
> 
> but she's not MADly in love with him.

_She’s so beautiful, but he knows she’d be better if she…just…let…go._

_Let her complicated rules and laws and morals and selfish self GO._

_Joker can’t wait to see how perfect her abstract madness is beside his own organized chaos._

_The trigger is easy enough._

_He asks for help._

_Begs._

_Gives the jailers exactly what they want._

_The padded cell remains, but he’s getting an appointment with the best Psychiatrist Arkham can buy. They don’t actually buy anything, Wayne Enterprises does._

_Joker can’t wait to show him a few things._

_Robin…little sweet Birdie got the first taste._

_Oh how delicious he’d been._

_Joker stretches and then puts on a smile, not too scary or confident, for when she arrives._

_He holds it until his eyes water from the pain._

_His hands twitch for a knife._

_Blade._

_Steel sings for him._

_Silver dies for him._

_All his beautiful knives are at home._

_Home alone._

_But he doesn’t want to hurt her._

_Just give her a push._

_They didn’t notice the latest care package wasn’t what it usually was._

_Slipping…ah ah ah._

_That’s how mistakes happen._

_So when they’re served coffee, he offers her some of his grandmother’s delicious hazelnut creamer._

_NUT._

_He nearly broke the whole show at that._

_How perfect._

_Six months later, he was out, because she’d set him free._

_Slaughtered the guards._

_But she didn’t remember._

_She ran._

_Well, Harleen did._

_He knows who rescued him._

_Helped._

_Helped him escape._

_She was still at war with herself, he could see it._

_When he greeted her she didn’t hear._

_She listened but didn’t comprehend._

_He told her where they were meeting._

_She showed._

_With the BAT’s car none the less._

_Then kept going._

_Oh she saw him._

_She swerved._

_He would have been annoyed if he didn’t have back up planned rides._

_He watched her go._

_She had no idea what she was getting into, or becoming._

_This was going to be fun…_

_Harley Quinn was a raging success._

_*_

There’s a moment.

A bright and shining moment.

Rather like the sparkle in _his_ eye.

It’s when Harleen sees the beginning and the end all wrapped up into one big pretzel, twisting and turning and writhing until it’s undecipherable.

‘It’s like Madness in a bottle’ he’s saying, clearly kidding, pouring a drip into her coffee, stirring it twice, and then handing it back to her like it was nothing more than sugar.

Like a fool, she drinks it.

Five seconds after the liquid slides down her throat she sees him beginning to grin, and the feeling in her gut, the sudden burning ache, isn’t just a ghost of a sensation, a sixth sense.

It’s reality preparing to break, far past being bent.

She clutches her neck, and tries to cough, but the room is getting dark, all but for his smile.

His sickening grin.

*

All there is, is cold.

She’s shivering and the icy water swallowing her whole doesn’t help.

There are two strong arms underneath her, dipping down into the coldness seeping into her very skin, and they’re like twin flames so much so the temperature changes.

Black.

So much black.

She cracks open her eyes and sees only darkness.

“I’ve got you.”

Like the growl of a wolf, a bear, or a feral dog.

Harleeeeeeeean….

No.

 _Harley_ , she instantly rebrands herself, for she is anew, reborn, and not but a fraction of her former self, flinches away, but she’s just against cold armor, hard unyielding metal.

This is not the man with the grin made of knives and the eyes that cut through her just as easily, but he’s someone just as dangerous.

“STOP.”

She can’t help it.

She’s screaming now.

Her throat starts burning a few moments later, but then he’s clapped a gloved hand over her mouth, muffling the sound.

Tears sting her eyes, but she is not sad, she is merely curious.

They are inside a fast car now, and she feels the surface beneath her hands shaking, the road is shitty, all roads inside Gotham are…

“Are you all right?”

She’s perfectly fiiiine thanks for asking.

Harley blinks, once, twice, and then she’s back.

Her hands lift before her, and the pale skin is different. She’s always been pale yes, but now she looks almost at deaths door.

How ridiculous.

She feels fine.

She licks her lips and tastes blood.

Who’s?

Whose.

Where did it come from?

Bright lights.

Cold and hard metal beneath her.

Leather between her teeth.

She blinks again, oh no.

Not that.

No unhappy memories.

No unhappy thoughts.

She’s absent.

Abstract.

Absolutely dying for a drink.

“You got any whiskey?”

Her voice sounds higher, frantic almost.

“I think that’s the last thing you need right now.”

Her legs move of their own accord, lashing out, and snapping him in the side.

He’s caught off guard.

She lunges at him, nails out like claws and he ducks.

She accidentally hits the red button. Emergency exit?

WHOOSH.

He’s gone.

There’s an empty seat where he was.

Auto pilot?

Nah.

She can drive.

One thing she remembers that isn’t dangerous or teetering on the edge of…

Where did he say to meet?

She blinks.

*

There’s a huge ass squirrel in the middle of the road.

Harley nearly giggles with delight.

But.

Green.

Her knuckles are pure white with instant terror as she grips the wheel with all her might.

The leather creaks just slightly.

It’s _him_.

“Pudding.”

She says the word, testing it on her tongue, but it tastes foul.

She swerves, and the car skids before sliding back into a smooth momentum.

He’s going to kill her if he’s not proud to death of her.

She’s speeding towards the signs.

‘Leaving Gotham, 10 miles to Metropolis’

The black caped nightmare that _he’d_ told her to avoid wouldn’t follow her.

Or hurt him.

There’s a never ending scream echoing inside her mind, and it’s coming from her lips, she gets a feeling, but then claps them shut.

It’s late.

Must be.

The moon is out.

But there’s traffic.

She continues on, plowing through red lights, unaware of just how gleeful she looks.

Her blonde hair is a slowly drying disaster and her red lipstick is beyond smudged, it’s like a bloody grin gone wild.

Her bare foot presses harder on the pedal, before she wonders…what happened to her shoes…

CRASH.

The car has stopped. Instantly.

She frowns, and Harleen even shuts up for a second.

How is that possible.

Not the quiet.

The sudden stop.

She’s slamming her hand on the wheel, cursing like a sailor, pressing the buttons she can see, EXCEPT THE RED, that one could be dangerous.

Red.

Blue.

Yellow.

Softer blue eyes.

Harley is plucked from the car, from wreckage she can’t even see, because there’s a man floating her away from the car she stole.

“Oops.”

“Ma’am, you’re not well. I’m taking you to a hospital.”

Harley and Harleen both stare.

 _He_ wasn’t handsome by any means, but this…god…was.

No!

He was an angel.

“My guardian angel! I was always told I had one by…”

She doesn’t know who told her that.

She looks into his eyes, and sees her own reflection looking back.

They’re so clear, and kind and soft and still…bright.

He’s still talking.

She’s not listening.

Harleen might be. She’s a bleeding heart who needs to just DIE.

Shut up first.

Harley claws at his face.

Curses his perfection.

But he doesn’t even flinch.

“Please don’t struggle. I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

_‘feel that? it’s your mind crying out for freedom. That’s what I’m giving you.’_

Green.

Harley suddenly wants that back.

She doesn’t know why.

She pulls herself up, closer to him, and does what she must.

Kissing is nice.

It’s like torture, but gentle.

Oh.

Well.

Not exactly.

Her wrists are as red as her lipstick from the rubbing kiss of the restraints, but they don’t hurt.

The thing that hurts is when he frowns at her.

“Put me down ya big lug. Don’t make me slug ya.”

What is she?

Some gangster from a black and white movie?

Nah.

Harley cackles aloud.

“I mean, do your worst! But he’ll come for me.”

The man still FLYING doesn’t respond anymore.

He’s dropping her now.  


Not painfully.

But the white blinds her.

Uh oh.

He’s brought her to a hospital.

“Be well. Be safe.”

He says.

She just smiles, and lolls against the padded gurney they’re strapping her to.

It won’t be long til they’re all dead.

 _He’s_ gonna come.

The memory of his laugh comes to her mind.

High, cold, never ending.

How evil sounds.

That’s _Joker_.

The joke is on you.

*

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> obviously we don't know how in DCCU Harley goes crazy, or if she was born that way(tm) but this is just my take.


End file.
